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Song—Rantin', Rovin' Robin[1]

Tune—"Daintie Davie."

     There was a lad was born in Kyle,
     But whatna day o' whatna style,
     I doubt it's hardly worth the while
     To be sae nice wi' Robin.

     Chor.—Robin was a rovin' boy,
     Rantin', rovin', rantin', rovin',
     Robin was a rovin' boy,
     Rantin', rovin', Robin!

     Our monarch's hindmost year but ane
     Was five-and-twenty days begun[2],
     'Twas then a blast o' Janwar' win'
     Blew hansel in on Robin.
     Robin was, &c.

     The gossip keekit in his loof,
     Quo' scho, "Wha lives will see the proof,
     This waly boy will be nae coof:
     I think we'll ca' him Robin."
     Robin was, &c.

     "He'll hae misfortunes great an' sma',
     But aye a heart aboon them a',
     He'll be a credit till us a'—
     We'll a' be proud o' Robin."
     Robin was, &c.

     "But sure as three times three mak nine,
     I see by ilka score and line,
     This chap will dearly like our kin',
     So leeze me on thee! Robin."
     Robin was, &c.

     "Guid faith," quo', scho, "I doubt you gar
     The bonie lasses lie aspar;
     But twenty fauts ye may hae waur
     So blessins on thee! Robin."
     Robin was, &c.
[1]

Not published by Burns.

[2]

January 25, 1759, the date of my bardship's vital existence.—R.B.

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